


The Chosen One and the Death Eater's Son

by purplpeanut



Series: Harry Potter soulmate Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-18
Updated: 2017-11-15
Packaged: 2018-05-21 13:38:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6053557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplpeanut/pseuds/purplpeanut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>4th year is when one gets their soulmark. except soulmarks aren't as easy. It's not as simple as one name written across your chest, or wherever it is on your body. Instead, there are words, that shift and change. The thoughts of your soulmate. The other half to your heart. </p><p>Harry didn't know what a soulmate is. Which leads to Hermione trying to explain it to him, Ron shouting at him for better lack of explanation and him looking at his words, that he can't help but feel, if this person is supposed to love him, how come it seems that they hate him rather so? </p><p>Draco didn't know what to do. For so long all his soulmark was, was insults, and then midway into his seventh year, it freezes. When he comes back to Hogwarts, eighth year, he knows he has to figure out who the hell it is. But will the truth hurt him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Here's the new story up and ready. I've got a lot of plans for this series. Another user on Ao3 had a perfect idea of using moving soulmarks with thoughts in the HP fandom and so I thought I would go along with that idea. I give them full credit of course, as they were the very first!!!
> 
> anyway remember that I don't own any of these characters, etc. they are j. k. rowling's and I just happen to steal them, make them kiss, and do things for my own nefarious purposes. 
> 
> I'm sorry it's taken so long to upload another story. It's been hell over here, what with school and whatnot. but if you're still reading this you're in for a sneekie peakie. The next pairing story will most likely be the weasley twins and our own favorite oliver wood. and yes, it will be in an au where both weasley twins are alive, and well, you know how it goes.

It was said that fourth year, was the year, that one would get their soulmark. Of course, Draco couldn't wait, and so on his birthday of his fourth year, he stood naked in front of the mirror, trying to find where in the world his soulmark would be. He found it, twisting around on his right arm, in chicken scratch handwriting that he could barely read. From what he could make out, it seemed that it was, "Why do i always have bad luck?" Which didn't help matters. Sighing, he pulled on his clothes and got ready to go see the triwizard tournament. 

Fourth year, Harry couldn't care less about whatever mark everybody was going on about. He was trying to keep himself from getting killed. He succeeded too, except not the way he wanted. Cedric Diggory was killed, and someone, Cho chang, had wailed about her mark going dark. What he didn't know was what that meant. One day he asked Ron and Hermione. 

"How can you not know what a soul mark is Harry?" Ron had yelled at him. Hermione however, had been a bit more understanding. 

"A soulmark is the mark of the one who'll love you forever Harry. IT's the perfect match to your other half. Your mark displays thoughts of what you're soulmate's thinking, whether about you, or anything really." Harry goes to the bathroom that night and searches for his mark only to find it right over his heart. 

Fifth year, was hard to say the least. Professor Umbridge was there. Malfoy didn't understand half the time the thoughts that flicked across his wrist. "Da," or "defense against the dark arts spells," were some of the few. On the other hand, his were saying more, "Always got his nose in other's business," or "Why the fuck is he always-". Malfoy sighed. He might never find them. 

Sixth year, got even worse. Draco's mark had stopped at a precarious point. Every time he looked at it, he barely dared breath, and now took to wrapping up his arm, with linen or whatever he could find, even going so far as to wear long gloves, for it had stopped on 'death eater.' Meanwhile Harry looked at his, a bit more often, it was confusing to say the least, especially when he felt the words move and change during class periods, during free time, when he was in the bathroom. "protect my family," or "i don't want to but I have to," or "why?" He was worried. 

Seventh year, Harry's mark moved only once. It was long and rambling and stayed there, even as he found himself walking into the woods, "Sometimes there's no right or wrong decision. I want to join the side of good, to fight against evil, against he who must not be named, but I also need to protect my family. How do I choose?" When he was in Hagrid's arms it moved only once more, and he was able to get just a glimpse of it, but he knew what it said, "Please don't let him be dead." 

Draco's mark had moved only once, seventh year, "I forgive you." It had disappeared, only for a second later to come back. This time it said, "I will find you." 

Eighth year he was back. He glanced down at his wrist, where it said, "Damn, that ass, I would jump his bones-" he blushed and didn't bother to read the rest.  
Harry's mark had changed, and it held to a statement he thought true, "Potter." He knew then who that was. So he marched straight up to one Draco Malfoy in the middle of the great hall. He pulled down his shirt, and he watched as malfoy's eyes lighted up and he reached forward, and lips were upon lips, before he was being roughly pushed away. On Malfoy's wrist, were a long extended thought. "The chosen one and the death eater's son." They stared at each other, and grinned. For once, something like that truly fit.


	2. Soulmarks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I decided I was going to continue this story, make it a longer one, instead of the short 600 or so words I have. As soon as all the chapters are up, I will delete the short version of it. I'm terribly sorry for making all of you wait so long, you've been nothing but patient, and don't worry, I haven't forgotten about my Mcnozzo story, quite just yet. I'm having just a bit of trouble sounding it out the way I want it, haha. Well without further ado, here it is, and remember, you need only ask if you want a story to come true.

It was said that fourth year was the year that one would get their soulmark. This mark was literally the representation of your soulmate somewhere among your body. No one knew where they came from, or what kind of magic was convened, or even how it worked, but they all knew one thing, in a world full of magic, this was the essence of magic in itself. On your fourth year at Hogwarts, before you went, you would receive your mark. Now it was not as simple as getting a mark that would stay, or even better, the name of the person themselves. No, instead one had to deal with a rather trickery business, because your soulmark was literally your soulmate's words moving across your arm, in their sort of handwriting, and wasn't that just reasonable? Now there were many kinds of soulmates mind you, just like there are many types of people in the world. However, for the sake of keeping things simple, we shall say this. Soulmarks were normally black, meaning of the romantic kind. Blue were of best friends and gold were of platonic sakes. Green was iffy and depended on the pair and red...red was often times called the worst of the all. Red meant that you were there for them, but they weren't there for you. Funny how the universe worked. 

When one died, the mark would turn grey. If it was particularly a brutal death, it would scar, much like Harry Potter's head did that night. This is how we've come to a story... a tale that all of the wizarding community should know, a tale of the chosen one and the death eater's son...

***  
He had waited for fourth year for ages. He had heard of so many stories, of wizards and witches alike finding their soulmate, their one true love. And how Draco had wanted that. Wanted it so much he could barely stand it. So before he got on the train, before he even left for the train station, he went over his entire body and finally found it, one could say that he was a bit disappointed. The handwriting wasn't elegant the way his was with it's flourishes and swoops, it counted to nothing more than chicken scratch, something that he could barely read. From what he could make out, it seemed it said, "Why do I always have such bad luck?" he sighed, as he pulled on his clothes, pulling his cloak over the words wrapped around his right arm, and got ready to leave. 

***  
Harry Potter, growing up with the muggles, had no idea what a soulmark was, or the fact that it would show up on him one day out of the blue. It was just as he finished showering that he looked into the mirror and saw it. It was flourishing with it's elegant handwriting of swoops and flourishes, and was written right over his heart, like some sort of cliché. He took one look at it, blushed, and then frowned. 'goddamn,' he thought to himself, 'I will never be able to go without a shirt again.' But even as he looked over the handwriting, which was sort of familiar to him in a way, he made up his mind that he was going to ask Hermione, the first chance he got. For the words he first got were, "Why doesn't he like me?" 

***  
When he asked Hermione and Ron, they were shocked. "You don't know what a soulmate is Harry?" asked Ron incredulously. 

Harry simply shook his head. "No...I don't think so, why?" 

"Harry," Hermione stated simply and he felt that she was going to start quoting a textbook. "A soulmark is the mark of someone who'll love you forever. It's the perfect match to your other half. Your mark displays what your soulmates thinking, either about you, or anything really," she stated. 

"But not knowing what a soulmate is?" Ron shook his head, "I keep forgetting you don't know much about the wizarding world." 

"Ron!" Hermione shot him a sharp glance that made him back up just a bit into his seat. 

"You'll be fine Harry," she whispered, and then they went back to what they were doing, Ron eating, Hermione pulling out yet another book to read, and Harry looking out the window wondering who his soulmate would actually be. 

***  
Fourth year was terrible if you asked Harry. At first he wondered about the mark, but eventually forgot about it, what with all the shit he was pulled through. The death eaters at the Triwizarding Tournament, then the whole competition which he hadn't entered, Ron stopped being his friend for a short while, mad-eye was Barty Crouch Jr., and meanwhile at every point and turn, Malfoy was there to taunt and tease. And if that wasn't bad, when he finally made it through the maze, it was a portkey and he came face to face with Voldemort, and once again made it out alive. But Cedric hadn't. 

When he got back, clutching Cedric's body, Malfoy couldn't believe what he was seeing. How was this real? Only minutes ago, Cedric was alive, Cedric was real. Looking at Potter's face, terrified, crying, he ran from the stadium, to Hogwarts, to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, where he shut himself there. Where he started crying. Because he knew one way or another, he was going to be on the side of the mad man who had killed one of the Hufflepuff's, because he knew if he didn't, his parents, his family, the most important people to him would die. It wasn't as if he was changing sides, because he wasn't. He still had those pureblood values ground into him as a result of his upbringing. But even as he had been a jerk, even as he had been a royal pain in the side of one Harry Potter, Malfoy couldn't help but wonder if this might have been all different if a certain person, one Harry Potter, had agreed to be his friend. But Malfoy, Malfoy hadn't grown up yet. 

It was on the train back home when he said it to him. He felt so proud, so accomplished, trying to erase the memory of who he had been in that bathroom bawling his eyes out. So he had turned on him, he had said, "You've picked the losing side, Potter! I warned you! I told you you ought to choose your company more carefully, remember? When we met on the train, first day at Hogwarts? I told you not to hang around with riffraff like this!" He jerked his head at Ron and Hermione. "Too late now, Potter! they'll be the first to go, now the Dark Lord's back! Mudbloods and Muggle-lovers first!" 

Potter had thrown him out on his face, incredibly angry, and well Malfoy hadn't thought of it, except for the small amount of hurt he felt emanating from his words. If both boys had looked at their words they might have had a clue as to who they were to be paired for the rest of their life with, but as it were they didn't. IF Harry had looked his words would have said, "I shouldn't have said that. I made him angry, and now-how am I to be his friend?" and if Draco had looked at his words, they would have said, "I hate you." 

They didn't see each other until fifth year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first off:   
> I don't own anything. That's Ms. Rowling who is awesome indeed and should really write a story about the founders because I would snatch that up in a heartbeat. all copyright is for her, I literally only steal the characters from time to time for my vast enjoyment and I don't make money off of em. 
> 
> Second:   
> kudos+comments+bookmarks=no death eater's kiss for me. Wouldn't want that for me, eh? 
> 
> third:   
> If you have a particular prompt that needs writing, please by all means, GIVE IT TO ME I SHALT WRITE IT. 
> 
> fourth: thanks guys, you are the best friend a gal could have.


	3. Fifth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh..sorry guys. It's taken so long to update. I've just been busy and right now I'm going through midterms and continued piles of added on homework. I know that's no excuse. So I decided to push off my homework (for an hour or so) and write some bloody fanfiction. I hope ya'll love it, it's as much a treat for you as it is for me. So without further ado, here you go.

Fifth year was hell. 

It's not like Harry was trying to complain. He wasn't. It's just that if years one through four were shit, then year five was definitely the shittiest of them all. Because who better to deal with than one Professor Dolores Umbridge. How he hated her. And hate was a pretty strong word. But he hated her, even more so than Voldemort, who had done a lot of shitty things in his life. Let's face it, Dolores was a horrible professor. 

So when Harry walked into detention, and then walked out of detention with the letters 'I must not tell lies,' scarred into his hand, his mood went from bad to worse. So much so that Draco Malfoy on the other side of Hogwarts got a searing shot of white hot pain on his forearm. Scurrying away from people, he nearly ripped his sleeve off in his desperation to heave it up and uncover his soulmate mark. What he found astounded him. 

"I must not tell lies," was seared into the back of his hand. It was faint, but blood-red, and Draco shuddered at the look of it. 'What happened to my soulmate?' he wondered in his head as he continuously stared at the words. 'What happened to them that this would show up on my hand?' He had never heard of a case before where something other than a person's soulmark was something that connected soulmates. He nearly stumbled in his haste to get back to the Slytherin common room, and when he did get back to his room, he wrapped his hand tightly in gauze. Then, thinking of what his housemates might think, he stooped down to put some black gloves on. 

When he walked into the great hall that day, for breakfast in the morning, his housemates asked him why he had gloves on. He replied that he had hurt himself in potions class while brewing one day, and was waiting for the burns to heal. His housemates nodded and went back to their newspapers leaving him to talk to Pansy and Blaise. If Draco Malfoy had looked across the room to the Gryffindor table, he would have found that one Harry Potter had his left hand wrapped tightly in gauze, just like Draco had his under the gloves. But as it was, he didn't. 

***  
Both boys soulmarks shifted that year, and they happened to change a lot. For Draco, his was in a constant state of complaining and phrases that he didn't understand. "Dumbledore's Army, DA, DADA spells and a list," were some of the most thought of. Draco looked down at the list. It was an impressive list mind you, but didn't exactly cover everything. Absentminded, he carelessly took his pen and next to his soulmark wrote a list of spells that his soulmate could use. Satisfied, he went back to reading in the library. 

In the Gryffindor common room, Harry felt an odd tingling sensation on his arm and glanced down only to discover a list of Defense against the Dark Arts spells written on his forearm. 'I didn't write these,' he thought in a panic, 'who-what,' he thought frantically till he cried out a frantic, "Hermione!!!" 

***

"Although it is rare, sometimes soulmates are linked together through an exceptional bond. While this has shown itself in many ways, it is normally between two powerful wizards or witches, or perhaps one of each, who possess great magic ability. Through a soulbond normally, each person displays their soulmate or soulmates thoughts on some form of their body. However, additionally, those who possess a rare, strong soulbond are subject to another form. When a soulmate writes somewhere on their body, it is projected onto the other's body. Normally, once one washes whatever they have written off their body it disappears off the other person's body as well. In cases of scars, it disappears over an extended period of time, that is different in each case, and one soulmate getting a tattoo generally leaves the other soulmate not affected," read Hermione from one of her books, 'A history of soulmates,' spread out on the table. 

"But-but, why me?!" cried Harry, pushing the glasses further up his nose. He was not in the mood to deal with this, he had other stuff to deal with!!! 

"Harry!" Hermione cried, "This is a wondrous opportunity, so many people would kill for having a chance to communicate with their soulmate!" 

"She's right you know," Ron said, nodding his head in approval. "You really are very lucky," and Ron gave him a pen. "We'll leave you alone now," he whispered, "Do what you need," he says as he pushes Hermione out the door even as she's trying to wrap her head around how it is possible. 

The door closes and Harry is alone with his thoughts, as he uncaps the pen, draws a deep breath and writes on his forearm. 

***

Draco looks down at his forearm to find a chicken scratch lettered, 'Thanks,' next to his list. He nearly drops the book he was reading in surprise. He recognizes what this is. He's heard countless stories about it back when he was a child of strong bonded soulmates who could write to each other, and it would appear along with the thoughts flickering across their skin. He could hardly believe he could be so lucky. For the first time in a long time, he felt happy.   
***

But however nice that simple thanks was, the thoughts on Draco's forearm took a turn for the worst such as 'why is he always in my business,', 'I hate him,' 'I hate her,' (which he suspected was none other than one Dolores Umbridge as it seemed most people in the school hated her), and 'why why why is my life so terrible, horrible, why?'

Meanwhile on Harry's arm were words such as 'I was chosen, finally,' or 'I can finally make my father proud,' or 'I wonder what he was up to today.' 

never once did they use pens on their arms again. 

***  
Fifth year was a mess. At least for Harry. Because now the entire world knew, what he was saying that night that Cedric Diggory was killed, was true. Voldemort, Tom Riddle, whomever or whatever you wanted to call him, he was back. Draco saw the papers of course, saw what was happening, and yet couldn't feel any sympathy for Potter. But regardless, one night he took out his pen, and marked up his left forearm. 

When Harry saw those words, he broke down crying, Sirius' death still fresh in his mind. And although Draco didn't get a response, (which shouldn't have hurt as much as it did, his soulmate was probably very busy after all) he didn't know how much of an effect that had on Harry, because Harry sighed, sniffled and looked at those words to help him keep going, (because Draco didn't wash them off for three weeks hoping for a reply). They simply said: 

I'm here for you. Always. Whether you like it or not, I am here for you.

They didn't speak to each other again until sixth year.


	4. Sixth Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I came back on today because I'm evading my work and stuff that I have due for midterms. I was surprised to find three comments, all on the same story (you know who you are), so I decided to update early, because why the hell not. If ya'll seem to love it so much, how can I resist?~

When Harry thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Sixth year was a new brand of hell for him. If he thought back on it long and hard enough, he could see that Dumbledore used him to get Slughorn to once again teach potions at school. If that wasn't bad enough, he had to go to the elusive "Slug Club" and sit there and try to small talk his way through it. One could see that him bringing Luna Lovegood there was looked down apart, but he didn't have it in his heart to care. Well, whatever, at least he found that Potions book to help him out in class.   
***  
Draco Malfoy could not believe-for Merlin's beard-how was Potter good at potions? Now one must understand the "Opposites" of the houses got paired up together for potions and whatnot. So hufflepuffs and ravenclaws went together just as gryffindors went with slytherins. And it was in this set up that Draco could not believe his eyes. Because Potter was always horrible at potions. Not horrible like Ron or even as much as Seamus-merlin forbid-but decent enough that he didn't blow things up or give them terrible side effects, but not good enough that, how did he manage to get his potion clear? Here Draco was, studying to be a potions master, under one Severus Snape (which he was mad that Slughorn was the new potions master because anyone with eyes could see that he was fawning over Potter), and he hadn't even managed to get his potion clear. He looked over his shoulder and saw that even Granger, the mudblood, was having a hard enough time. He shook his head, so how had Potter-? 

Rolling up his sleeves, he glanced at the soulmark. 'Finally finished. thank god for this textbook,' was what was written there, and he couldn't help but shake his head. He didn't understand. As he went back to stirring his potion, he couldn't help but wonder who his soulmate was. 

***  
Harry was stressed out that year. But then again, he always was. Except now he had to deal with Dumbledore and the things that he saw in the pensieve. And as he learned more and more he couldn't help but feel that Tom Riddle had gone through a lot. A lot more than a child should have gone through. They were alike in that respect he guessed, they both were orphans. However he was made an orphan, while Tom Riddle had gone through an even crueler fate. 

The school year makes it to a spike when at first Ron is poisoned by the wine that Slughorn was going to give Dumbledore. He made it out okay, Madam Pomfrey made sure of that. But the school year, at least for Harry at that time, came to a spike when Katie Bell was cursed by the necklace. He made sure not to touch it, only picking it up by the cloth that was wrapped around it. It was clear that this was also going to someone near Dumbledore and Harry couldn't help but think something terrible was going on. 

***  
Draco hid in the bathroom, crying. "I can't do it," he cried, tearing at his hair and his clothes. Meanwhile, Moaning Myrtle floated around him. "Can't do what?" she asked for the thousandth time, as she thought her and Draco had become a semblance of friends because of how much time he spent here. 

"I can't kill him," he whispered lowly, and she knew that was all she was going to get out of him. And then of course Harry Potter came out of nowhere, and demanded to know why Malfoy was crying, what his mission was, since he knew all along that he was up to no good. And Malfoy no way to turn, not wishing to deal with this, attacked Harry with his wand. They fought back and forth and she tried to call out a "stop!" but no words came out of her mouth, because Harry had yelled "SECTUMSEMPRA!" and Draco Malfoy was bleeding on the floor. 

"Oh no," she heard him say as he collapsed to his knees, "It wasn't supposed to...I didn't mean for it to-". She was about to go grab help from a teacher and pray for it not to be too late when Professor Snape came in and started muttering a counter curse. She watched him give several detentions to Harry Potter, far less than she deserved she silently thought, and as if to stab him, heard him ask the chosen one, "Who would have thought you knew such Dark Magic?" with an unapproving stare, causing Harry Potter to flee. She watched as the professor picked up his charge and walked out a couple minutes after Harry Potter had vacated the place. 

If either of them had looked at their arm, they might have had a clue who it was. For on Draco Malfoy's arm read: "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I didn't know what the spell even did!" and on Harry's heart there was a single word embedded with so much meaning and yet so elegant, "Why?"

***  
If Harry thought of anything bad, he would have assumed that nothing could get worse. But the year unfortunately did, when he lost not only a great friend but a great mentor as well. For when Dumbledore told him to hide, and not come out, not make a single sound, he obeyed. He wanted to do much much more, to do something, but out of respect for his mentor and his teacher, he obeyed. He watched as Draco Malfoy tried to strike Dumbledore down and only managed to use expelliarmous. He watched as Snape was ultimately the one who killed him, and when he found out that Snape was indeed the half-blood prince, it nearly destroyed him. Hogwarts was no longer his friend, Hogwarts was but a stranger to him. 

And for Draco? He knew he couldn't do it, couldn't kill him. He supposed he was a coward, he should have been able to. But he couldn't help but think of his soulmate, whomever it was, and if they would be disappointed with the fact that he would kill one of the greatest men in the world. So he lowered his wand, so Snape did it for him. And even as the Headmaster fell, off the tower, he couldn't help but wonder what the punishment would be for the one thing he didn't do. 

***  
And if either boy looked at their soulmark, it would have said the exact same thing, "Dumbledore's dead." But as it were, none of them looked at their soulmark, because they were too caught up in the world around them. They didn't see each other again until seventh year.


	5. Seventh Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter today for you hungry souls, and after this chapter things really start picking up! It's eight year and that's where the big reveal will be set, people will come back to Hogwarts, and after the dark and depressing stuff some party games will ensue, with a big reveal! Hope ya'll are enjoying yourselves thus far!!! :D

Seventh year. There wasn't a lot of things Draco could say about seventh year. Except that his life was hell. Because the Dark Lord now lived in his house. What had once been the mansion full of happiness was steeped in cold, dark, and death. He watched the Dark Lord murder someone without so much as batting an eyelash. He was the one they practiced on, the new deatheaters that is, and the one the older ones practiced on if they were bored. The cruciatis curse was indeed painful and every time they yelled, "CRUCIO!" they had malice in their eyes, and when they laughed they seemed to get off on his pain. They called him a coward, they laughed at him, and they tried to subject him to their cruel ways. Sometimes magic wasn't enough, sometimes a kick or punch would suffice, because they got off on the bruises, and the blood. "Scream louder," they would cheer as they subjected him to such abuse. 

He could see what this was. Sixth year he had seen it too. That following the dark side wasn't the best idea, wasn't even a good idea. Following a mad man was even worse. But what else was he supposed to do? Join Potter? Preposturous. He had a family to protect, his mother and father, his best friends, and their group of Slytherins. They had something to loose. And he had lost too much already. But even then, he could not stuff away his compassion. For even as he was viewed as weak, viewed as a coward, he was still a Slytherin. And never would he go against his own morals, that made him sick to the core. So he would give food to the prisoners in the dungeons below his house, he would care for them kindly when he was all alone. No one found out, he made sure of that. 

And the one day that Harry Potter came he knew that he was the only one who could save him. Had he looked at his soulmark when he lied it would have changed from the perpetual "Deatheater," that it has been for almost a year, to that of "Why would you? Thank you." and maybe, maybe he would have known, but as it was, he didn't look. He knew the punishment they would get when Harry Potter escaped. But the first time in a long time he breathed in, pulled his shoulders back, and prepared to face whatever it was onward. 

***  
At the battle of Hogwarts, as he watched them say "Fight!" and looked about his classmates, he saw that none of them understood why the Slytherin's didn't want to fight. None of them would see it. Worse yet, they took them down to the dungeons, and locked them there. Draco shook his head. Did none of them want to see it? The blantant houseism they put on all of them? Because really...if the Slytherin's did fight, did the other houses know who they'd be fighting? 

They'd recognize the voices first. Or perhaps the wands. How the partners protected each other. They would wonder, is that my mother out there? Or my older brother? Perhaps they'd be able to tell by the hair color. Or perhaps they'd be able to tell by the color of their shoes. Either way they would be fighting their family out there. And who would fight a war on the winning side, when if they did, they might be the reason why they would loose? Because they might be responsible for killing their family, and nobody wanted to deal with the consequences. 

But when Draco saw Harry was dead, he didn't look at his soulmate mark. All he could do was stare in front of him. That and he was scared. Would his soulmate die in this war? If he had looked he would have realized it would have turned from gray to black when Potter leapt up. Draco wanted to run after him, to help him. But instead, he walked away with his mother and father. He finally got them back. And he would not let them be taken away, or threatened to be taken away, ever again. 

***

After the war of Hogwarts, came the trials, mostly Slytherins those caught on the "wrong side." His father Lucius, went to Azkaban for his crimes. His familys' trials were some of the most popular and everyone wished to see their downfall. But he was surprised when Harry Potter stood, and became witness to all of them in front of the Wizengamot. He told of how Draco and Narcissa lied. How Draco lied to Bellatrix Lestrange of who he really was, and how Narcissa had lied straight to Voldemort himself that he was dead when in reality he was not. "They are the reason I am alive," he had said, and with that, the Wizengamot had ruled the fact that they would be under house arrest and probation for a certain period of time, and how Draco would have to go back to Hogwarts, to complete his education. With tears running down his face, he hugged his mother, and as Potter turned away, he ran towards him, and hugged him around the back. 

"Thank you," he whispered, as loud as he could muster, crying even more heavily, "Thank you so much." 

Potter turned, and extracating himself from Malfoy's arms, nodded. "They deserved to know," was all he said, and he left even as Draco Malfoy broke down again. 

They did not look at their soulmarks (which they really need to do) and they would not have seen this: 

For Harry's said, "Thank you. You really are the chosen one." 

and Draco's said, "Your life is not only to be the death eater's son." 

But as it were, they did not see them. And they would not meet again until their eight year.


	6. Eighth year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait, guys. I'm in finals right now, and I decided I needed a break from studying and typing a story would help me calm down. so here we are.

Coming back to Hogwarts was painful. Draco was aware of that. Seeing the castle crumbled, in ruin, and knowing what had happened here, he suppressed a shudder. 'Okay,' he breathed, 'you can do this.' and he entered inside the Headmistress's office. 

"Mr. Malfoy," she nodded at him. 

"Professor," he nodded back, with a nod of his head. No longer was his mouth drawn into a sneer but rather he ducked his head as low as possible, feeling sorry. 

"As part of your probation, you'll be working to heal the castle. You'll be working with Mr. Potter for the duration of this task. I don't believe I need to remind you that any fighting during this period, will be viewed as-" 

"I know professor," he said quietly. She sighed, as she looked at the poor boy before nodding. "If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask." She stated turning around. 

"Thank you," he said in a quiet voice uncharacteristic of him. He was halfway out the door before he remembered something and turned around. The Headmistress still had her back towards him. "And professor?" he asked in a fearful voice. "I'm sorry..." he bowed his head once and headed out. As soon as the door caught, McGonagall turned. 

"Oh Albus, what am I to do about those two boys?" she asked the empty room with only the portraits to keep her company. 

***  
Finding Potter was not easy. Searching the castle high and low, and watching the few students who were here to help with the cleaning up process look down their noses and despise him, well now he knew what they certainly must have felt like a long time ago with himself. He shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to the floor, only pausing to look up time and time again to see if he could discover Potter. When he rounded the corner and came face to face with George Weasley, well it seemed luck wasn't with him. 

"Malfoy," the twin said with a sneer, "What are you doing here?" 

"Helping clean up Hogwarts," he said cooly, unable to help himself. "And what of you...George?" he asked. 

George seemed surprised that he had used his first name, he had never before. But that was before the war. And a lot of things had changed. One of the most important things being Draco's attitude towards people. 

"I came to see him," he sighed, and turned around. There in the hallway was a ghost, a ghost casting resemblance of the Weasley he spoke to. He had a childish look of wonder on his face, as he looked out the window, looking every bit as mischievous as he had looked in real life. 

"Oh....oh no...." it came out of Draco's mouth as George looked at him strangely. His face paled considerably, and the younger boy slid down to his knees. He had caught sight of one of Fred's scars, given to him by the Carrow's a couple months before he died. George looked from Draco to his brother, and then back again, finally catching on to what he had seen. Surveying Malfoy he realized that he had changed. He was no longer snotty and stuck up like he was before, he tended to keep to himself and just tried to get through life. George nodded to himself, he wasn't about to forgive the boy yet. 

But as the blond haired boy sunk down, the shirt on his right arm came up just a bit to reveal a couple scars wrapping round it. Georges' eyes widened, but he forced himself to keep silent. Wounds of self harm, and wounds of torture fading together, blending in a mix of hurt and pain. It seems like Malfoy wasn't the only one who wished to escape the war. 

Malfoy looked up at him. "I....am sorry..." he whispered in a small voice, "For all that has happened... and for all that I did to you." George looked at him curiously, head tilted to one side. Then offered him a hand. Looking surprised, it took Malfoy a few seconds to recover before grabbing onto the hand and allowing himself to be pulled off the floor. 

"Right," George said as if only to himself, "I must be off, I have things to do places to be." He walked a couple steps before turning, "Oh and Malfoy." 

"Yeah?" Malfoy asked twitching as if he was afraid. 'And he had every right to be,' George thought in his mind wondering why of all times he was so charitable to the old brat. 

"Thank you, for the apology. Oh, and Harry's just down the hall to the right. If you were looking for him that is." 

George didn't think that he made up what he was seeing just now. because for a brief moment, a pure moment of joy and happiness radiated from Malfoy only to be just as quickly replaced by a scowl. 

He dipped his head, and left, leaving George to ponder on what he had seen and why the scrawl on Malfoy's arm looked oh so familiar. 

***

"Potter," the voice cut through Harry's thoughts. He hadn't heard it since last year and it had been ever so long. His heart almost ached at hearing the rich undertones of the voice, and he knew who he would see if he turned around. Slowly, holding his breath and his heart in his throat, he turned. And he looked ever so beautiful as he did last year, tired and down trod. Harry swallowed. HE was gay, one could say that. He had known ever since fourth year, when he had had a small crush on the blond. A crush that was ever growing, ever consuming. 

Potter had filled out a lot since last year. His hair looked like he had just been shagged for fucks sake. He had a glowing tan, and he had built up in muscle. His jeans hugged his arse, and left his cock bulge not too much to the imagination. Sweat ran down those great abs, as he had his shirt off for fucks sake and was moving stone and brick the old fashioned way instead of using magic. Draco's mouth went dry and he felt a thrill run through his body, as he shivered. How was he supposed to work with Potter when Potter was like this?


	7. Eighth year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been a while hasn't it? So that previous chapter was supposed to be longer but I got distracted and published it and that's kind of why it cuts off just a bit. sorry about that boys and girls. School and relationships and friendship and drama has taken up the majority of my time, otherwise I would be cranking chapters out like no tomorrow. I decided to write some before going to a movie with a friend and because since ya'll have been nice to me, I want this to be a spankin' good, longer story. So let's go see em' yes? 
> 
> btw, there won't be a time skip until after eight year. I wouldn't want to skip all the juicy details.

"Malfoy?" Potter asked. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. Was this the boy he had a crush on? Malfoy looked a bit haggard, but nothing like he had at the trial. He had filled out some, he could tell that there were abs under the thin-ish shirt that he was wearing, making his mouth dry. He was also wearing jeans that left nothing to imagination, as tight as they were. His hair was ruffled, and he had a bit of stubble growing. "What are you doing here?" 

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "Didn't you hear?" he cursed himself inwardly, of course Potter hadn't, otherwise he wouldn't be asking him why he was here in the first place, "I'm here to help clean up the school. Since I'll be going here..." he let himself trail off awkwardly. Potter had been there at the trial, Potter would get what he had to say. 

"..Right," came the resounding affirmation from his voice. "So McGonagall assigned you as my partner is that right?" He nodded, remembering the conversation they had first had. McGonagall was adamant about them working together, something about how someone had told them they were two sides of the same coin, and their magic was stronger together than it was apart, whatever that meant. He had no choice but to agree, albeit somewhat reluctantly. 

Potter nodded to himself. "So what section are we cleaning up?" Malfoy asked, hoping it wasn't something that required just heavy lifting, he would rather deal with something that needed a bit of wand work, if only to practice for what was sure to be his last year. 

Potter muttered under his breath. Malfoy, a glimmer of anger running through him, pushed his feelings away only to ask, "What was that? I didn't quite catch that." 

Potter looked up at him and then looked down at the ground before he mumbled, a bit more loudly this time, what he had just said. "...Astronomy tower..." 

Malfoy tried to keep himself under control. The one place where-, "Is that so?" he asked, trying to hold a fake smile and plaster it to his face. 

Potter looked up at him, hair covering his eyes, "I know what you did, or tried to do Malfoy," he said, Malfoy trying to keep his shocked expression off his face only he wasn't having very much success, "I was there under the stairs. Seems to be a running joke in my life. Dumbledore told me to watch but not to come out, not to say a word. I didn't think-well..." he trailed off. 

"I was a coward," Malfoy said, and Potter's head whipped up, surprising himself. "I couldn't even kill an old man to keep my family safe." 

Potter shook his head. "You weren't a coward. You just had a rough situation that you couldn't get away from." Potter thought back to his own such situation, with the Dursleys and then blowing up his Aunt Marge. "Everyone has something to protect. It's just...most people couldn't tell that you had to choose between your family or fighting against a mass murderer without a nose." 

That made Malfoy laugh just a bit. 

"My point being, the Slytherin's were perhaps some of the bravest people during the war. The older ones were the ones who took care of the younger students, keeping an eye out for them and making sure they were safe, even going so far as to fight against old family friends. And don't think I didn't see you, you turned on some of the death eaters when everyone needed you most." 

Potter took a deep breath before plowing on. "I think we got so caught up in the fact of our houses that we didn't actually think about the fact that we're all students. We made assumptions of other people based on the house they were sorted into and not their own personality. That's what McGonagall's going for this year, house unity mostly. And why not start with the two who have literally fought for seven years of their lives?" Potter let out a laugh. 

"I think the most important thing is that houses only show our traits, not the people we turn out to be. And I guess everyone needs to be reminded of that." 

They were silent for a moment before Draco let out a great laugh. "Really Potter? You and your speeches! Some things never change!" he says wiping away a tear of happiness. "Lead the way, oh great chosen one." And they left the corridor teasing each other relentlessly not knowing that George was just around the corner watching the current exchange and smiling just under his breath as he turned and walked away, down the halls that held nothing but ghosts and memories of things before. 

***

Climbing up the Astronomy Tower was met with silence. When they finally reached the top, they stopped to look around. The stained glass was broken and it looked a bit forlorn. 

"It's...hard," Malfoy breathed, "Being up here with all the memories." 

Potter nodded to what he had just said. "Why don't you take the stained glass since you've got an eye for detail? I'll take the boulders and repairing the infrastructure." 

"How would you know that Potter? Were you watching?" Malfoy asked him. 

Potter shook his head even as he stated, "I was always watching you, you git." 

"Like what you see?" the words were out of Malfoy's mouth before he could stop them. He looked down as a flush spread across his face. 

Potter shrugged, as he turned to the nearest boulder and started to levitate it, concentrating on that instead of feeling embarrassed. Did that mean Malfoy was interested? Seeing that he would have to start at the bottom of the tower and build up, he yelled over to Malfoy, and left. Malfoy watched him go and breathed a sigh of relief. He then looked at the stained glass, and wondered what he could do with it. He didn't remember all of the details of the stained glass from his time as a free student. He looked at it, as ideas formed in his mind. That would do. Pulling out his wand, and gritting his teeth he set to the painstaking work. 

Moving the boulders with magic was sometimes a bit more draining then moving them by hand. Potter didn't always mind the physical labor so he created a system. Move boulders that he could with his raw strength and then use the rest with magic. And then start using magic to shape the tower like it was supposed to be, so it wouldn't collapse. He just hoped Malfoy was doing okay with those stained glass windows. 

Finally, when it had grown quite dark enough and cold enough, Potter made it up the steps of the astronomy tower, sore and feeling awfully pleased with himself. The mid section that had been destroyed as well as the base had been repaired, and he only needed to patch up a few holes here and there, and move the debris on the inside of the tower. He went to see what Malfoy had accomplished and found himself staring at the stained glass, in shock. Above on the ceiling were the patterns of the stars and the planets. But the actual windows themselves embodied a person. In the middle was Dumbledore and Severus Snape. Next to each other, looking and acting like they had when they were alive were Remus and Tonks. Over on the left side of Dumbledore was Colin Creevey. And even further on, other students and people who had died in the war. The stained glass pictures didn't move, much like they were of their muggle counterparts, however he was quite taken in by them. Each showed the person in their full form, along with surrounding them pictures of their accomplishments and of who they really were. Under the stained glass were plaques, made up of some kind of metal, which had their names as well as various things said about them engraved into it. Malfoy he noted, was just finishing the last of the stained glass windows, detached, he noticed that it was Fred Weasley and how had he never noticed how artistic Malfoy was before? With a sigh of relief, Malfoy just about near collapsed on the ground, a bit drained from all the magic he used, yet looking around him at the room that was finally done. Had it only been a couple of hours? It felt like a lifetime to him. 

A gasp from behind him made him turn around. There was Potter, gazing in wonder of all things at his creations. Tears slid down unexpectedly along his cheeks, and he just had to go and make the wizarding world's savior cry didn't he? Belatedly he watched Potter touch an engraving. That one was for, Sirius Black. Although he hadn't died in the battle of Hogwarts, he had benefitted to the cause. Inwardly he cursed a bit, Black was Potter's godfather after all if he paid any attention to the rumors floating around the school. Must be why Potter was looking at the stained glass with such a mixture of emotions. Turning away he waited for Potter to dry his eyes and be done with any private emotional moment he might have experienced, he certainly wasn't going to say anything about it. "Malfoy," he heard abruptly, "These are beautiful. I didn't know you..." 

Did art? Could make something beautiful? Make something so light when once upon a time he was so full of darkness? It was only watching Potter's facial expressions change did he realize he said that out loud. "Sorry," he muttered, "but sometimes it just feels so natural." He looked at what he had accomplished, and silently admitted to himself that it was quite good actually. "Did you finish everything?" 

"No," replied Potter, "Just a couple holes need patching up, as well as the debris cleared from the inside." Malfoy sighed, "I have just enough bit of juice left. Let's do that and then head down to the Great Hall for some grub all right?" Potter nodded, and they went off, helping each other out. 

Dinner was good albeit quiet. Many people threw Malfoy dirty looks for his part in the war, and whispers were spread around asking why he was here or why McGonagall had asked him back here. It didn't help matters when Potter decided that he was going to sit next to him. Not that Malfoy minded, but he could see that the golden trio was somewhat maddened, with the Weasel, aka Ginny gripping her napkin tightly. 

"Why don't you go sit over there?" he asked nonchalantly, "With your girlfriend?" 

Potter looked at him with mere interest, before realizing what it was he had just said. "Oh, you mean Ginny?" he asked, and shook his head. "We're not together." 

"How come?" Malfoy asked genuinely curious even as he teased the boy like they were friends or something of that nature. "I thought you two were going to get together and make lots of little Potters one day." 

Potter shook his head. "Maybe that would have worked for Ginny but it certainly wouldn't have worked for me that way. I just don't swing that way. I hope that you'd keep that out of the prophet, I'd rather not have them printing some other crap about my life." 

Malfoy just stared at him like he'd grown a second head. Harry Potter, the Golden Boy and Savior of the Wizarding World was GAY?! How in Merlin's Beard had the daily prophet not caught wind of this?

He must have said that last sentence out loud or Potter was a mind reader because the boy just merely answered that question. "Because my friends are good people and don't tell others what I don't want them to know. And the prophet literally prints such garbage anyway, that simply steering them in another direction is pretty easy, especially if it's something people want to believe." He shrugged and continued to eat his stew. 

Malfoy shook his head. Potter, gay?! There was a bunch of things he was going to have to work out, and that meant that he might have a chance. Potter had always been his type, if watching him for years had meant anything, anything at all. He kept shoveling the stew into his mouth as he tried to work it out. He'd have to tell Blaise and Pansy. They were about as smart as he was, they'd have a plan for anything he knew if the three of them could put their minds to it. He'd also have to owl his old friend, Theodore Nott. The boy was a downright sex demon, and might know some ways to flirt, that might even show up the Weaselette, as well as be obvious to oblivious Potter. 

Potter shows him to his room that night, those from the restoration are sharing rooms until all of the work in the castle has been done. For some odd reason he's been paired up with a Hufflepuff and a Ravenclaw, two who particularly don't dislike him. He finds out that they were second years, soon to be third years, and the older Slytherin's shielded them from the worst of the harm. They've come to an understanding with him, and soon they've formed a symbiotic relationship something he thought within most of his years that would simply be impossible, and yet it's been easy with them so far. He goes to bed sooner than he would like, he would much rather stay up talking to them, but he needs sleep as he depleted most of his magic, building those stained glass windows. Feeling the familiar itch, he looks at his soul mark. 

'He's changed. For better or for worse, but my god how can he be so fucking handsome?' Well....that was....a fun soul mark thought to say the least? 

Meanwhile Harry had pulled his shirt off and was looking at his soulmark in front of the mirror. Over his heart said, 'Hair looks like he's just been shagged, for fucks sakes.' Blushing he put his shirt back on and ran off to the middle of the castle where he was meeting George and McGonagall wanting to show them the progress they did. 

Draco thought back on all that he had gone through and decided that he had enough regrets. He dug through his trunk before finding a fine tipped, ball point pen. Doing something he swore to himself all those years ago he would never do again he set it against his skin and started to write a message on his left arm. And Harry? He felt it. As McGonagall looked up at the portraits, and George nearly cried at the one of his brother, that Harry had explained Draco had done all of this, watching them shocked and gobsmacked, he felt the familiar itching of something moving across his skin. Pulling up his sleeve, he watched word upon word appear in that scrawling handwriting that was his soulmate. That rare soul mark that none of them had explored, until now anyhow. 

"Hello soulmate. I know we can't exchange names or numbers but I'm in Hogwarts now. Was wondering what gender you might happen to be? Just curious." 

He smiled at the long sentence, and without hesitation grabbed a pen from his pocket, and wrote in chicken scratch, "Male." 

"good," appeared underneath, "Me too." 

He broke out into a dazzling smile feeling happier than he had ever thought, as George and McGonagall watched him with a mixed expression of awe seeing as he had a rare soul mark because of course he did he was Harry Potter, to feeling glad that at least someone was feeling happy. As all three left the Astronomy Tower he promised himself that this would be the year he'd do things for himself, and finally find the one that completed his heart, his soulmate. 

As Draco looked at his soulmates handwriting, and the one word that had made him the happiest boy in the world, he promised to himself that this year, he would find his soulmate come hell or high water. 

And as both boys looked at their words, whether it be their thoughts or actually written with ink on their skin, they told themselves that they'd find the one they'd been dreaming of for years, whoever it was. These boys were finally getting smart, they started to look at their soul mark and the many clues it would reveal as to who was their other half. But that would have to wait because the very next day Malfoy got beaten up, by a couple of Gryffindor's. That would soon be the start of their newfound and very tumultuous friendship. But what would follow after was something they could only dream of.


	8. Eighth year continued even still...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dudes, I guess this is to say that I love ya'll, and ya'll have been really supportive. So heres the next chapter. I tried my hardest to give you 1,000+ words in this next chapter so lemme know what you think. Without further ado, here you go~
> 
> P.S. this isn't the last chapter. Not by a long shot!

"Not all Gryffindors are brave or loyal to their friends,   
Not all Slytherins are purebloods or use all means to an end,   
Not all Ravenclaws are for knowledge, seen in books and formed of wit,   
Not all Hufflepuffs are outgoing, where they glow is further in,   
Not all students follow the expectations set by their house,   
Some of them will grip and groan while others will a'grouse,  
Not all of them are bad, not all of them are good,   
To be fair, all of the houses, are simply misunderstood." 

~ The Sorting Hat

Harry didn't see Malfoy until that afternoon, which wasn't unusual. He had assumed that McGonagall had put him to work in some other part of the castle, without him, which while he was a bit disappointed, was also a tad bit relieved. Since he was alone, and he worked well quite on his own, he was allowed to think about their changing relationship and voice it out loud even if it was to no one in particular. By lunch time when he still hadn't seen Malfoy he was starting to get a bit worried. He wondered if something had happened to him but briefly cancelled the thought. 'He was really tired yesterday,' he thought remembering the beautifully crafted stained glass windows that he had created. Creating something that beautiful had to have been strenuous, especially magically wise. Malfoy turned up after lunch, his head dipped forward and his hair all over the place. 

Something was wrong. Harry didn't know how he knew that, but he felt the feeling course through his entire body like he had been shocked by lightning, or doused with a bucket of ice cold water. The way Malfoy held himself was all wrong, the way he constantly ducked his head, and never looked Harry in the eye was another clue. Even worse still, Malfoy would never go anywhere without looking absolutely impeccable, that was just who he was for a fact. Reaching out he felt his body move on it's own as his hand gripped Malfoy's chin and turned it up so that he was facing him. 

"Potter what are you doi-let me go!!!" the boy fought from his hard grasp, but Harry grabbed even tighter as he forced Malfoy's face his way into the light. What he saw made him shock, flinch involuntarily and drop his hand away as if it had been scalded. For Malfoy's face was muddled with bruises. His eye was black and tinged with purple, that much was for certain. It wasn't open, and small bits of puss came from around the edges. Mottled green, yellow and black bruises made their way around his jawline, down his neck before disappearing under his shirt. Harry wondered how many more bruises he carried on his person. 

"Malfoy!" he cried out, "We need to get you to Madame Pomfrey!" 

"NO!" he cried out, "I'm fine," he turned around, wrenching himself free from Harry's hand that reached out to grab him. 

"Who did this to you?" he asked dreading the answer. It couldn't be any of the older Slytherin's, not that many had returned so far, but many of them had been in the same situation as Draco had been in. 'Draco,' he thought silently to himself, 'When did I start calling him Draco in my head?" he shook away the thought, returning to refer to him as Malfoy. The thought was easy, familiar and comfortable. 'Just as much as Draco is,' his mind thought back at him silently. 

"It doesn't matter," he said curtly, wishing to be done with this situation. 

"But-" 

"It doesn't matter!" the shrill of his scream echoed in the halls. With a sigh, he ran his hands through his hair, a nervous tic that Potter had picked up on. "Let's just go Potter. We've got a castle to fix, haven't we?" He sighed, and followed Malfoy down the hall knowing that sooner rather than later he was going to get to the bottom of this. 

It happened a lot sooner than anyone could have thought it would have happened really. Harry had let Draco out of his sight for no less than five minutes, asking him to wait while he quick ran to the bathroom. Malfoy had rolled his eyes, but to his surprise nodded, saying if he took any longer than five minutes he was going to leave him there, and go get dinner by himself. Harry had hurriedly agreed and quick ran in. As he walked out, his first thought was that Malfoy had left, when he heard the 'crack,' of a fist against flesh and a sudden high pitch yelp. Quickly he ran off to see what the commotion was about. There, huddled around a figure with white-blond hair were a bunch of now would be fourth years, their crimson and yellow ties giving it away. Two of them held Malfoy back, locking his arms into play, as well as his feet so he couldn't fight back. The other two were happily throwing punches, while the rest of them sat back and laughed, occasionally throwing comments. Harry swallowed the bile in his throat and sent out a patronus to McGonagall down the hallway informing her of what was going on. Then without further ado, he stepped out of the hallway he had been hiding in and with an authoritative voice declared loudly, "What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?" 

The fourth years turned around, mouths gaping open. "It's Harry Potter," came the whispers. 

"Again I ask, what are you doing?!" his voice rang through out the nearly empty hall, as he came closer to the group of would be Gryffindors. 

"Just what it looks like," sneered one of them, a boy who looked oddly reminiscent of Crabbe, "Teaching the death eater his place." 

The others nodded, one or two of them throwing in comments of their own. What happened next Harry would never be able to understand just how he did it, but why he did it was perfectly reasonable. From out of his person shot a blue wave, dragging the would be Gryffindors up and down onto the stone floor below, knocking them unconscious, even as the wave hauled Malfoy up, as if it was caressing him. It fell around him, and where it landed, the worst of the bruises faded, until he was only just a bit roughed up, but none too worse for the wear. Had either Draco or Harry studied up on Soulmates like Hermione had done fifth year they would have realized that this was the soul responding to that of their other half but as it were, the boys were oblivious as ever. "Malfoy are you all right?" Harry asked, helping him to his feet. 

But Malfoy was shaking his head in utter disbelief, "Potter, you just used wandless magic. Why-?" 

"Because they were hurting you," he simply said. Draco looked up at him with big eyes. 

"But why-?" 

"Because you are my friend. Well, I'd like to think so anyway." He looked down at the floor. A hand stuck out entered his vision. He looked up at Draco with a questioning glance. 

"Then I guess we should start over. Turn back time to those many years before," he said with a twitch of his lips, "Hi, I'm Draco." 

He moved to meet his hand in a handshake. "Hi, I'm Harry." 

"Would you like to be my friend?" asked Draco, grabbing his hand tighter, and leaning in as if he had a secret. 

"Would I ever," escaped his lips before he could stop it, sending out a chuckle from Draco. 

When McGonagall arrived, she found Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter standing in a handshake with unconscious students all around them. For once, she didn't have the heart to say anything. 

***  
"WHAT?!" Ron spit out, in between bites of his meal, "I won't accept it, I won't. Gryffindor's bullying others, ain't how it's supposed to go." 

Hermione however, had a different topic in mind. "Accepting him as a partner to work with Harry is one thing, but a friend?! There was a lot of things he did Harry, not all of them good..." 

"But not all of them bad either Hermione," Harry stated, feeling uncertain, "And besides, for whatever reason I feel drawn to him. I always have." 

Hermione sighed, shoving Rons hand full of food up to his mouth to silence him for just a moment more as she began talking. "You've always followed him around, we know. We would have thought you would have grown out of this by now. Perhaps gone to look for your soulmate..." she trailed off. 

"Whoever the lucky girl may be," Ron stated. 

"It's not a girl." 

"What?" they both asked. 

"It's not a girl," he stated again. 

"How do you know?" Ron asked. 

And so he told them, Ron and Hermione both staring at him in utter fascination. 

"That's great Harry!" Hermione cried. 

"Really? You guys don't mind that I'm...gay?" 

Ron shook his head. "You can like whoever you like mate. Just don't make me kiss em'." 

All three of them laughed at Ron's antics. "So," Hermione veered off onto another topic, "Any man that you find cute?" 

Ron groaned. 

"Actually," said Harry, "I do have one in mind." 

"Who?" 

"Well..." Harry looked abashed, "You might not like it." 

"Your the one having sex with them, not us," Ron stated in a flat, no emotion carrying voice. 

"Well...." 

"Go on Harry, tell us," Hermione insisted. 

"Draco Malfoy ain't that bad looking," Harry said. 

His friends looked a bit shocked, before Ron mulled it over and nodded. "Too true." 

Hermione whipped around looking at him in shock. 

"What?!" Ron cried getting all defensive, "I can appreciate when another bloke is handsome. Don't mean I like it up the arse." Sheepishly he looked over at Harry, "Didn't mean it like that Harry." 

"S'alright Ron." 

Hermione looked at Harry. "You sure?" 

He smiled big, "For once Hermione, I really am." 

***  
Pansy and Blaise and Theo wouldn't let him leave without telling them all of the dirty juicy details. Not that he had much to tell mind you, but since they had come out all this way to Hogwarts, they weren't leaving until they had gotten what they wanted. 

"So what are you going to do?" Pansy asked, fishing for details. 

"I think you should confess." Theo pointed out. 

"But...guys, what if he doesn't like me?" 

"For all you know, he might like sexy, blond and handsome," Blaise pointed out. 

"What...what about my soulmate?" Draco asked in a small voice. 

"He would understand you going out with tall, dark and handsome over there," Theo murmured, a smile playing on his lips. 

"Just go up and tell him, Draco. What's the worst that could happen?" Pansy asked. 

"He could say no," Draco snapped. 

"Please," Blaise waved a hand, "The way he's stared at you for forever, he's not gonna turn you down." 

"He stares at me?" Draco asked, voice suddenly hopeful. 

"Yes," all three of his friends snapped at him. 

"Look, if you're so worried about the soulmate thing, why not ask them?" Pansy asked, holding out a pen. "See if they'd be fine with your crush on Potter." 

"I can't." 

"What's stopping you?" asked Blaise. 

"What if they hate me?" Pansy raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

"fine," Draco cried snatching the pen from Pansy. 

She purred. "We just love you Draco. We want you to be happy." As they all filed out of the room, they didn't hear the words Draco muttered. "I know. And I love you all too." 

***

Harry was lying in bed thinking about Draco when he felt the familiar tingle of his soulmate writing across their skin. 

"You there?" 

Reaching for the pen on his bedside table he uncapped it and replied. "Yeah." 

"I've been thinking..." it trailed off, "I want to meet you. There's so much I've planned out...so much I've wanted to do..." 

"But?" 

"I keep thinking that I'll never find them. Find you." 

"Believe me, I'm not trying to hide." 

A slant in the words, "I know." A couple dots appear, as if his soulmate was going to write something but thought better of it. "Goodnight." 

"Goodnight."

***  
The next day Harry met Draco round the bend, just outside the castle, by the lake. An owl had been rapping at Harry's window that morning when he awoke, from Draco asking him to meet there. And Harry had. 

"Your late," was the greeting the man gave him. 

"Look, I tried," Harry mumbled, sleepy still, "I got here didn't I?" 

Draco's brows furrow, and the next thing Harry knows, he's been pushed, arms flailing into the lake. "What did you do that for?" he grumbles out, now all soaked, as he stands, grabbing his shirt off and trying, albeit failing, to wring his shirt out. 

"It's your punishment for being late. Because," Draco's voice drops off, "Potter, what is THAT?" he questions. 

"What is what?" he asks, as Draco raises an eyebrow at him in a I-am-not-amused expression. 

"That," he clarifies, "THING over your heart." 

"Oh," he looks down and then back at Draco, "that's my soul mark." 

"Out of all the cliché-" he cuts off before starting again, "Why in Merlin's beard is it in my handwriting?" Harry whips his head up, not fully comprehending what Draco had just said but knowing that it's really important. 

"What did you just say?" 

"You know what I-oh here, LOOK," he emphasizes the last word as he pulls up his sleeve, baring his wrist, the one without the dark mark. There, on his forearm, is a thought, written in Harry's cramped handwriting. 

"Can I-can I touch it?" he asks hesitantly. 

"What do you think Potter?" Draco snarls affectionately, and grabs his hand, pressing his hand to his forearm even as a hand of his presses over Harry's heart. Wind swirls around them as they feel something click within them, something right. Below the thoughts writes each other's names, on Draco's wrist 'Harry Potter,' and underneath Harry's heart, 'Draco Malfoy.' Happy, a smile stretching across his face, Harry pulls his arms around Draco and pulls them into the lake. 

"What did you do that for?" Malfoy exclaims, now drenched. 

"So I can do this," Harry smiles, a hand on his cheek, his face leaning down until lips press against Draco's. They are soft, plump, and taste like honey. He deftly maneuvers his tongue into his mouth, enjoying the slippery sensation before pulling away, pulling his lower lip into his mouth and worrying it with his teeth. They kiss like that for some time, and when he pulls back, Draco's lips are a soft pink and if someone saw them in that instant they would know he had just been snogged within an inch of his life. 

"That was...pretty good Potter," Malfoy acknowledges with the rare compliment. 

"Oh really?" Harry quirks an eyebrow. 

"You could do better though," Draco taunts and Harry's leaning in for another kiss, this time one full of lust, and love. 

"I'm so glad it was you," Harry says as he pulls away. 

"Oh? How so?" 

"I've kind of had a crush on you since fourth year," Harry said sheepishly. 

"Me too." 

"How long?" He asked. 

"Well realizing the crush wasn't till sixth year. But I've wanted you since the day I first saw you in Madame Malkins," Draco confesses. "I was mad that you didn't want my friendship, and as the years went by I wanted you to notice me. The only way of doing that was teasing however, but hey, I would take what I could get. When I realized what it was, it wasn't simply friendship that I wanted, it was already sixth year." 

Harry's head fell onto Draco's shoulder as he laughed. "We're a bunch of idiots aren't we?" 

"And yet here we are," Draco said with a smile, the first time in a while that Harry's actually seen a genuine smile cross his face. "Want to make up for lost time?" he asked. 

"Do I ever," whispered Harry, but Draco pushed him away. 

"Wah-?" 

"To do so, you're gonna have to catch me first," Draco replied with a smirk as he stripped out of his shirt, and then his trousers, throwing them into a soppy pile on land. Harry's mouth went dry when he saw the man with rock solid abs, and oh god that happy trail disappearing into boxers that didn't leave too much room for imagination. 

"Well? Are you coming?" he asked, shocking Harry out of his fantasies. 

"You bet!" he cried stripping to his boxers as Draco had, throwing his clothes into a soppy pile along with his wand (and glasses) on land. Then he dove into the water, a quick wand less spell allowing him to see the boy for whatever brief moment of time they'd be spending in the lake. 

What Harry and Draco didn't know is that so much more waited for them at Hogwarts, like what their relationship would turn into, how their eighth year would go, especially with inner house unity parties for the eighth years, and the rather kinky drunk individuals would decide to play kinky drunk games to pass the time, and well i'll leave that for you lovelies to read on for. But as the boys were playing in the lake, as taken with each other as the were, they didn't see a certain brother of someone, a one Dennis Creevey snap a couple photos, doing what his younger brother once did. Unfortunately for the two, the pictures would be all over the Daily Prophet come tomorrow morning, articles written by the courtesy of Rita Skeeter of 'THE CHOSEN ONE AND THE DEATH EATER'S SON-SOULMATES?!' But as it were, things were bliss and peaceful. For now anyway.


	9. The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys i'm sorry but i need to end the story. this is the last chapter.   
> i might extend it later on, but i've been really busy at university and i've let it unfinished for long enough.   
> meanwhile i have 6-8 essays to do for school yay!!!~  
> anyways, enjoy!!! :)

As it so happens it wasn't Rita Skeeter that wrote about the Chosen one and the death eater's son. Instead it was none other than Pansy Parkinson. You see, everyone in eighth year was deciding what they wanted to be when they grew up. Of course they had already "grown up" what with the war and all. But still. There's always that question "What do you want to be when you grow up? What do you want to do with your life?" 

However she didn't frame it like Rita Skeeter did, all drama no real points. Instead it wove an intense, ever-loveable story of soulmates which ended where it began, with Harry James Potter and Draco Lucius Malfoy. It went into what soulmates are, what soulmates were, the theories and the love that surrounded them. Everyone loved a good soulmate story. And then it ended with a couple statements that Harry Potter had found his soulmate, one that complemented him in every way, Draco Malfoy. 

Of course there was a loud outcry but that was calmed down by Headmistress McGonagall, whom said, "Everyone has a soulmate, and why should we keep them from each other? Why should we keep those from true love? If Voldemort himself had had love, maybe he wouldn't have turned out the way he did." that settled everyone down, although there were a few disgruntled cases but those were the outliers. 

But as for Draco and Harry what did they think? They were very happy, you could always ask them. 

"He gives good sex too," Harry says waggling his eyebrows as he leaned over to plant a kiss over Draco's eyebrow. 

Draco cleared his throat, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "Well two can play at that game," he sighed, pulling Harry into a dirty kiss that would make anyone horny on sight. 

Harry coughed, adjusting himself as Draco winked. "Well you know what they say, it takes two to tango," then he grabbed onto his arm and pulled him towards the door away from it all. 

Pansy smirked, soulmates did sell the best after all. 

THE END.

**Author's Note:**

> I need kudos! For kudos are the best!  
> I need comments! To show who've I've impressed!  
> I need bookmarks! This series' is better than the rest! 
> 
> For kudos+comments+bookmarks=something I would sell my soul for (JK). :)
> 
> Hope you liked, so just do one of the above below. Thanks!!!


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